


Earthly Temple

by Abstract_Chameleon



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: Blood, Character Death, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Tragic Romance, i sort of just wanted to write something that focuses on count d's godlike qualities, i wrote this in one sitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abstract_Chameleon/pseuds/Abstract_Chameleon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fine line exists between mortality and immortality, a line that gods and men alike should never cross.  Once the boundaries are broken, man will find himself in danger of learning one of the universe's most closely guarded secrets.  Gods and men are both subject to the same weakness known as emotion, but only man can find relief from the burden of emotion in death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earthly Temple

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished rereading Petshop of Horrors for the first time in years, and I felt obligated to write this. It took me about four hours to type this messy one shot on the tiny screen of my smartphone. Well, I hope you enjoy the read! Kudos are amazing, but comments are love!

Of all places, Leon had never thought that he would finally find the Count in a pitch black alleyway in the backstreets of Tokyo, a forgotten corner of the world rancid with the smell of human excrement and cannabis. In fact, he had never thought that after having devoted a decade of his life to search for the Count, that elusive son of a bitch would find him instead. In all his wildest dreams -- and he had dreamt of the Count many times -- he had never imagined that the whimsical Chinese merchant would discover him in the worst condition possible, bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds and on the brink of death. In the darkest of times, Leon had never imagined that he would really find the Count again, regardless of how thoroughly and desperately he searched.

Ah, he had come so close.

But it didn’t really matter anymore. Leon had finally been reunited with the person who had driven him mad enough to throw away his home and job, all for the sake of a risky pursuit. Even if he had nothing left besides the clothes on his back, the shoes on his feet, and a detective badge that no longer carried any meaning or authority, he was satisfied. Even if he was knocking on death’s door, slumped against a garbage dumpster amidst puddles of alcohol, shit, piss, and his own goddamn blood, he felt as if everything he had lived for had finally paid off. Shit, it was like he had spent his whole life searching for that stupid pet shop owner. Maybe Leon was just imagining it, but Count D was glowing.

No, the Count was definitely glowing. With each step he took, he shined brighter and brighter. By the time D was kneeling in front of Leon, the entire alleyway was washed out in holy light. Night turned into celestial morning, and the stench of the crime infested part of the city was replaced by the sweet aroma of incense and an underlying fragrance of sugary Chinese pastries. Leon felt dizzy. He wondered if it was from blood loss or the incense. Maybe both.

The dizziness wore away when Leon felt a warm palm graze the top of his bloody knee. Gentle yet strong, Leon couldn't misplace the physical contact as anything other than the touch of a god. Every inch of his skin was on fire, and he melted.

“My dear detective.”

Leon’s heart caught in his throat. Fuck, it had been so long since he heard those words. Spoken low and dripping with honey, they tangled around his brain and twisted his stomach into a knot. He couldn't bring himself to correct the Count, to tell him that his title as a detective was no longer valid. When he realized that D wasn't going to speak again, he was forced to rack his mind for something to say.

“Don’t fucking kneel in front of me.”

Wow, that wasn't how Leon had hoped his words would sound at all. He had intended to say something reverent, but not reverent enough to seem devoid of familiarity. In reality, his words came out brash and unkind, purpose unclear. Fortunately for Leon, Count D knew his retired detective well, and the message came across loud and clear. He ignored it anyway.

Instead of standing, the Count leaned forward and wiped Leon’s brow with the back of his hand. In an instant, Leon was overly aware of every speck of filth on his person. He could sense each individual drop of blood that had stained his blond bangs, and he could feel the bloodied sweat that was dripping off of each strand of hair and every inch of his forehead onto D’s manicured nails. He could feel all of the grains of dirt and dried blood underneath his fingernails, and he remembered how the blood had gotten there. Clawing at pools of red on the ground, he had begged his assaulter not to shoot again. Pathetic, worse than a helpless animal. The scumbag had actually complied and vanished into the maze of the city, but not without stealing every penny from his pockets in addition to his empty firearm.

“You’re dying, detective.” The Count’s voice wasn't so sweet this time. It was grave and empty. If Leon didn't know better, he would have mistaken it for sorrow.

As for Leon, he would have laughed if he wasn't afraid of bleeding onto D’s floral cheongsam. He wondered if staining a deity’s fine clothes of silk qualified as a sin.

“Glad you noticed, Count,” Leon huffed. If he were to be honest, he didn't care what was a sin and what wasn't anymore. The only time he had ever cared was when he was searching, clinging to the hope that one day, he would earn the right to board the magical ship in the sky. Before the Count disappeared, he had wasted his life away sinning -- maybe even more than the average man -- and D had done nothing to stop him. The Count had actually allowed such a sinful human being to accompany him on his little adventures. He had even saved the detective’s life.

D leaned in closer, skimming his ridiculously long fingernails through the dying man’s hair. He whispered words in a foreign tongue that even Leon knew wasn't Chinese or any other human language, for that matter. Soft as a kitten’s mewl and passionate as a dragon’s roar, the foreign words seemed to carry a myriad of emotions which Leon thought the Count was incapable of knowing. Wine red lips painfully close to Leon’s face, the former detective could smell chocolate on D’s breath. He closed his eyes. The pain in each bullet wound seemed to stop. It was as if sleep, maybe a permanent kind, was beckoning him.

The Count pulled his hand away. Leon struggled to open his eyes. D was smiling that infuriating, falsely innocent smile he wore whenever he was up to something. But his eyes told a different story, violet and gold possessing the emotion of his alien chant. Leon’s heart quivered.

“Are you ready now? The ship is waiting.”

After hearing those words, Leon was no longer drowsy. The pain of his wounds was fresh, and he was alive. He tried to sit up, only to cry out in pain and fall back onto the dumpster.

“No, I'm not ready yet! Are you fucking kidding me? There's so much you haven't told me! Why did you leave?” Leon demanded. His voice broke. Ashamed, he lowered his face and clenched his fists.

“You know why I left. I told you myself, dear detective,” the Count responded in a plaintive tone. “You hadn't earned the right to join me. Rather, I didn't deem you worthy.” He paused. Leon noticed that he was no longer smiling. “I was afraid to let a human like you accompany me. I was worried that your morals would outshine mine.”

Leon could barely believe what he was hearing. All this time, he had assumed that he simply wasn't good enough. He had misunderstood everything. How foolish. Typical of a human. 

“Don’t you get it? I don't care anymore. I don't care what the hell you do. I've been looking for you for twelve fucking years! I don't care who you are or what shady business you’re involved in. I just want to stay this time.” Leon snorted. His expression was unusual, a sardonic grin, although it conveyed an all too familiar shade of irritation. He was trying to seem calm, pretending to be only mildly annoyed. However, his act couldn't hide the pitchiness in his voice or the obvious fact that he was about to cry. “But that's impossible now. I'm fucking dying because of you, D.”

Leon was out of breath. The dizziness returned, along with a burning sensation on his cheeks. The calm act was gone. He tried to ignore the tears that only made the stinging pain worse. He could feel himself slipping out of existence.

The Count made a clacking noise with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Everyone dies. Even I will die. The difference is simple. I will come back, and you will not.” His smile returned. Somehow, it was anything but cruel. “Now, tell me, detective. Are you ready to board?”

Leon was sobbing now. Never in his adult life had he felt so humiliated, even when he had been begging for his life at gunpoint. The raw emotion that stirred in his soul seemed to be the only thing tethering him to reality. He nodded furiously.

Before Leon could assess what was happening, he was swept into the Count’s arms. D was flying, and Leon had stopped sobbing. He rested his head on the Count’s chest, pressing his overheated cheek against the smooth silk cloth. Nothing mattered anymore. One minute, he could see the lights of Tokyo below him. The next minute, he could see the whole Earth beneath their feet. In very little time, the couple was surrounded by the terrifying expanse of space and twinkling stars. 

“Count?” Leon mumbled. D hummed in acknowledgement. “Why me? I’m just a human. No different from the rest of us.” He raised his voice, ignoring the strain it caused. He was crying again, fresh tears dampening D’s cheongsam. “A lousy human with the nerve to swear and yell in front of a deity! I don’t understand! Why the fuck would you pick me?”

The Count held Leon’s failing body tighter. Leon felt the gentle kisses of a god pepper his hairline. His only thought was that he must be more blessed than an angel to receive such a high honor.

“You and I aren't so different, my dear. I may be immortal, but I am confined to the same cage as you. We're both souls trapped in human bodies, earthy temples meant to be defaced and destroyed. When you think of life in such a manner, you're lucky. Your soul can move on while mine will simply find a new prison in which to haunt humanity for all of eternity.”

Leon could barely process what he was hearing. He was scared to die. Memories of his childhood flashed by, but he couldn't cling to any of them long enough to feel a thing. He thought of Chris and of Jill. He thought of his mother, and he wondered what she would say if she were there. A silly string of mortal thoughts.

“I wanna stay with you forever. Lemme fucking stay.” Leon was begging again. His own words sounded foreign in his ears.

“You overestimate my power,” D chuckled with a sad warmth in his voice. “Even if such a thing were possible, the two of us would be separated over time, reborn millions of miles apart from each other. Do you really think you'd be able to find me again?”

Leon clutched onto the Count’s cheongsam. “I found you in this life, and I'd find you in the next. I'd find you every time,” he answered with conviction. The smell of incense was stronger now. He could hear the faint melody of a song in the distance.

Count D ignored him. “Look! Our ship has finally arrived, my dear!”

Leon could only keep his eyes open long enough to catch a blurry glimpse of the silver winged boat approaching on a bed of clouds. At the last moment, he could faintly hear the cries of countless animals rejoicing their return. Before he could even force a smile to greet them, his earthly temple collapsed, and death claimed another prisoner as its own.

Hours later, the deceased body of Leon Orcot was found beside a dumpster in a back alleyway in the city of Tokyo. The cause of death appeared to be external bleeding from three gunshot wounds to the shoulder and abdomen. Knowing that the homicide would be considered an American tragedy on Japanese soil, police authorities were determined to find the killer as quickly as possible. Like many similar cases, they guessed that the killer would turn out to be just another street thug or a drug addict desperate for cash. However, forensic experts were puzzled by the strong scent of an unidentifiable incense on Leon’s clothes and traces of lipstick discovered on strands of his blood mottled hair. While searching for the origin of these peculiar remains, the police were led to a mysterious pet shop in the heart of Tokyo. Despite thorough investigation, the pet shop appeared to be completely empty without a trace of any living creature, human or otherwise.


End file.
